


where our hands hurt from healing

by oldbenkenobi (lucyharper)



Series: luminous beings are we [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: But with gratuitous flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I will claim this on my deathbed, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Rey is a Kenobi (Star Wars), Slow Burn, part 1 in a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyharper/pseuds/oldbenkenobi
Summary: The words echoed through his brain before he could stop them. Lava swam through his vision, heat creeping up his neck. “Only a Sith deals in absolutes.”“Well, to change anything you must believe in it absolutely.”"And what are you trying so hard to change?"Dara stared at him, as if the answer should be obvious. "The universe."
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s)
Series: luminous beings are we [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118531
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. prologue

_Peace is a lie._

Taking flight in the middle of a fire fight was never anyone’s first choice. Taking flight in the middle of a fire fight with no droid, no real destination, and the entire newly founded Empire on your ass shouldn’t even be an option. But Adhara Halofire was notoriously unlucky, so why should she have expected any different?

_There is only passion._

“Dammit, come on!” She banged her fist on the controls, willing them to work. She had never flown without a droid and didn’t even know where to start. She didn’t have coordinates, just a strong indication that she needed to get as far away as possible. Did she go ahead and turn the shields on? Did she fire back? Was the damned cruiser even _on_?

A blast hit the windshield.

_Through passion I gain strength._

The ground troops were getting closer, pressing back her home’s militia. She could feel their anguish, their fury mixing with her own. It was as if the entire planet was crying out, _No, not again!_

 _Command the force,_ an ugly voice snarled in her mind, _Bend it to your will. It is your tool to create any outcome, any result you desire. Use it!_

Adhara closed her eyes. She felt the hatred, the passion, the _power_ in her boil up like lava. She was vaguely aware of her hands flying across the control panel, as images of shackles and broken friends filled her mind.

_Through strength I gain power._

“Get me out of here,” she snarled, yanking up the controls.

She didn’t see the burnt corpses of friends and foes alike that she left in her wake. She soared upward. She was a star falling in reverse, retaking her place in the sky.

_Through power I gain victory._

The higher she climbed, the less she felt. The cries of her neighbors no longer pounded in her ears, replaced by the silence only found in the vastness of space. She caught a glance of her own reflection in the glass surrounding the cockpit. Her white hair floated around her, no longer bound by Ullura’s gravity. The blue diamonds on her forehead reflected the light off of the sun she had lived under her entire life.

She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the bright yellow-red in her eyes.

_Through victory my chains are broken._

Cruiser fire surrounded her, breaking her out of her haze. Adhara pushed forward, reaching deep inside for a destination, a mission, a purpose. She did not leave her home to die at the hands of Empire cowards.

_The Force shall free me._

Then, with a whisper, the force answered her. Guiding her hands like a mother guides her child, gently and beckoning. Pulling her forward into the lights of hyper-speed, streaking in front of her eyes like the summer star showers of her home that she would only see again in her dreams.

The force echoed through her head, over and over again.

It called her to the outskirts of space, far-removed from the Empire’s reach.

She closed her eyes, her own thoughts joining the call of the force.

Tatooine.

_Peace is a lie._


	2. chapter 1

Obi-Wan Kenobi had a routine.

When he woke up in the morning, he would search the force, looking for the young Luke Skywalker. He could sense his every emotion, could feel the force cradling around the young boy, as if it was apologizing for his solitude. Luke was 3 now, the same age he had been when he was found by the Jedi scouts. Obi-Wan would often catch himself falling down a slope of wondering, asking himself if it would’ve made a difference, had they found Anakin earlier.

Obi-Wan would tell himself that it wouldn’t have, that there was nothing he could’ve done to change Anakin’s fate.

He might’ve been called “The Negotiator” during the war, but he never quite managed the art of convincing himself.

Around midday, he would roam around the cliffs surrounding his home. More often than not, he would have to chase away Jawas and Tusken Raiders, trying to steal what little possessions he had. Truly, he didn’t care if they took most of his belongings, but there was a chest that held something far greater than scrap metal or creatures. It didn’t belong to him, but he was its keeper until it was time to be passed on.

At night, he would commune with his old master. In a desert wasteland like Tatooine, a familiar face was always welcome, and Qui-Gon Jinn usually made for pleasant company. The eerie blue aura surrounding him had become commonplace, fading into the background of Obi-Wan’s conscious, until his hand would accidentally pass through Qui-Gon and the reminder of his master’s true existence would hit him so fast his head would spin.

Once a month, he’d journey to the marketplace, purchasing and trading goods with the moisture farmers and merchants. He’d so-far avoided an encounter with Owen Lars, keeping his distance from the family. He would be there if they ever needed him, but he worried that any extended contact would bring unwanted attention.

Everyone in the market called him Ben. It was easier that way.

They all believed he was a recluse, preferring solidarity in the cliffs. That was easier, too.

Obi-Wan liked his routine. It gave him structure and purpose, instead of wallowing in his thoughts in the middle of the desert.

Deviations from his routine were encouraged, loudly by Qui-Gon, at least once a week. Obi-Wan had half a mind to ask him if a crash-landing in the middle of the desert was his attempt to get Obi-Wan to change things up. He wouldn’t put it past him.

The market was certainly excited about it.

“I heard that it created a crater the size of Mos Doba!”

“Well, I heard that it was shot down by the Hutts!”

_Unlikely,_ Obi-Wan laughed to himself, _their canons couldn’t shoot the long side of a Star Destroyer._

“Ben! How are you?” Obi-Wan turned to see Annileen Dannar’s head sticking out of the doorway to her store, her dark curls bouncing with her movement.

Annileen was a friend of happenstance. A few months after his arrival on Tatooine, he came across an alarming situation. Annileen and her daughter, Kallie, were moments away from being eaten by a sarlacc when he found them. He had used the force to save them, and then promptly had to make up a story about swinging on some vine to save them from a sandy death.

“Hello, Annileen,” Obi-Wan smiled, walking towards the shop, “Has the market been good for you today?” They weren’t the most popular of stores in the marketplace, but they often did well due to their dewback meat.

“Oh, you know, we have our best-sellers and we have products that have been sitting on the shelf for as long as I’ve owned the place,” Green eyes sparked with interest, “But the best part is always the market gossip, and what a story there is today!”

Obi-Wan smiled, “Yes, I’ve heard quite a few versions of the tale just on my walk over. Something about a crash-landing in the night?” That was all he could establish as a certainty, everything else was so coated in speculation that he couldn’t believe a word of it. Annileen, however, was known for getting to the root of a rumor and refused to spread false truths. Whatever she told him was as close to the truth that he could get.

“Yes, a starship, or what was left of one crashed in the desert last night. All of the moisture farmers in a 10-mile-radius felt the tremors it caused! I heard that the pilot was unconscious, but more-or-less unharmed. I have no idea how that’s possible, because all that was left of the ship was the cockpit!”

The memory of another half-ruined ship and an impossible landing flittered through his mind. He wondered if the force was causing his heart to break in his chest.

“Where is this pilot?” The force tugged at his mind, whispering peace through his soul. _Serenity. Harmony._

“The Lars family is looking after them. They landed right in the middle of their farm.”

If he were the cursing kind, Obi-Wan would have a few choice words for his former master. There was no way Qui-Gon Jinn wasn’t at least partially responsible.

…

Adhara didn’t know that sand could get in so many places. She’d only been on the planet for a day, and the desert had invaded places she didn’t even know she had. Admittedly, crashing into a dune wasn’t the best way to keep sand out of her nooks and crannies.

Enough of that.

She had bigger concerns, but only marginally.

When she awoke that morning, a pair of blue eyes stared down at her. A young boy was at her bedside, his blond fringe almost touching her forehead with his closeness. An undignified scream nearly ripped its way out of her throat, swallowed down like bile.

“Hi!” The boy had grinned at her, unmoving, “I’m Luke!”

Adhara had squeezed her eyes shut. Closing away from dryness, from sunlight, from the nearness of a toddler, she wasn’t sure.

“Are you a pilot?” The boy had asked, undeterred by her lack of response.

“I, uh…” Her head was pounding, like fissures cracking along her skull. A small whisper pulled at the back of her mind.

“I wanna be a pilot!” Luke’s excited voice wasn’t helping. Adhara was fairly certain that children had no real concept of speaking at any volume lower than a Dapavon’s screeching. “Wanna fly fas’! Fas’er than anyone! Fas’er than Biggs!”

Adhara didn’t know what a Biggs was, or what it had to do with flying.

She struggled to sit up. She heard Luke run out, calling for an uncle.

“Hey, hey, hey! Careful now!” Calloused hands gripped under her arms, helping her up. Adhara forced her eyes to open, finally taking in her surroundings.

There was a lot. More than she could really comprehend.

The room was crowded, filled to the brim with spare parts and broken machines. The boy stood in the middle of it, seemingly at home amongst the heaps of scrap metal. The man who helped her let go, backing away from the bed. He had a kind face, his scrunched brows making him look much older than he probably was.

“Are you alright, miss?”

_No, probably not._

“Do you know where you are?”

_Not in the slightest._

“Do you know who you are?”

That, unfortunately, she knew all too well. She also knew that, if she wanted to live, Adhara Halofire must die. She knew that from the moment she deserted. She had begun to prepare a new life before she left, a manhunt being inevitable. Most of what she had gathered had gone to waste when she had to throw it into the Senreiko river.

Whatever. It’s the thought that counts.

“My, uh… my name is Dara. Dara Ardi of Ullura.” No matter what, she’d never renounce her home. She just hoped Vasto would forgive her for stealing his last name.

“I am Owen Lars, and this is my nephew, Luke,” Owen gestured to the room, “This is our moisture farm. Anchorhead is a couple miles west of us, and Mos Eisley is north of that. It’s the only port anywhere near here. Tatooine isn’t the most popular destination, you see.”

Tatooine. The force wriggled through her mind again, causing another fissure.

“Tatooine, huh?” She ran her hands through her hair, sighing, “Guess I made it then.”

“You were… _trying_ to come here?” Owen sounded stunned, and she couldn’t blame him. If it weren’t for the force, and sheer necessity, she wouldn’t try to have a life here either.

“I wanted to get as far away from my planet as possible,” she shrugged, “Tatooine fit the bill quite nicely.” _That, and the force wouldn’t let me go anywhere else if I tried._

Another stab of pain rocketed through her head. Owen must’ve seen it in her face, because he told Luke that she needed rest and to leave her alone for a bit. She was grateful, she could feel her consciousness slipping away from her. She laid back down on her borrowed bed, closing her eyes once more. On his way out, Owen turned back to her.

“Welcome to Tatooine, Dara.”

Adhara Halofire was dead.

Long live Dara Ardi.

…

Obi-Wan could feel the force guiding him to the Lars’ farm, but it wasn’t the same pull to Luke that he felt constantly. This was something stronger, as if the force was willing to drag him kicking and screaming, if it came down to that. Obi-Wan suppressed a laugh at the image he would make, an invisible hand dragging him across the desert by his ankle, parading its prize to the other inhabitants of Tatooine.

He figured it’d be best to just do what the force was telling him. He didn’t want to chance it, in case the force decided to throw him in a sarlacc pit for contempt.

The crash site was the size of a crater. Faint wisps of smoke rose out of the ship’s still smoldering tail, like a signal to everyone around them.

_Here I am. Come find me._

The ship itself wasn’t very large, even if it had been in one piece. Both wings were missing, and the lid to the cockpit had been torn off. A blue insignia decorated the tail, one that Obi-Wan didn’t recognize. Three diamonds, with a white circle surrounding it.

_Move along, young one._

He turned away.

The closer he got to the farm, the louder the force echoed through his mind. The louder it got, the more it sounded like Qui-Gon.

_Here, Obi-Wan. It’s here._

What “it” was, Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure, or what the pilot had to do with it. All he knew was that the force wanted him there, wanted him to find answers.

As he approached the main building, a figure appeared, climbing the stairs to lead them out of the farm. Owen Lars caught sight of Obi-Wan climbing out of his speeder, and moved to meet him.

“Ben Kenobi.” Owen extended a hand, grasping Obi-Wan’s own in a firm grip, “I was wondering when you’d show up. Word travels fast here, since nothing ever really happens.”

He wasn’t wrong. The last newsworthy event was his own arrival, three years ago.

“Hello, Owen, it’s been a while.” He smiled at the younger man, gesturing to the crater behind him, “Were you expecting company?”

“The pilot woke up a few hours ago. Her name is Dara Ardi, from the planet Ullura.”

The planet’s name was familiar to him, having travelled there once as Qui-Gon’s padawan. It was a mining planet, covered in crystals and vast oceans. It was beautiful, but sinister, with a wide-spread slave organization implemented by a corrupt government. It was also on the other side of the universe, on the border of the Unknown Regions.

“What is someone from Ullura doing on this side of the galaxy?” Obi-Wan stroked his beard.

“She told me that she wanted to get as far away from her planet as possible,” Owen shrugged, “Didn’t say why.”

“It seems that she has succeeded, then,” He glanced back at the crashed ship, “Strange, though, that she landed in your front yard, of all places.”

“You’re telling me. We were all asleep, when it suddenly felt like the house was going to come down on top of us. The entire back end was on fire when we got to it, and both wings were giving off sparks. The sand helped with the wings, but we lost a good portion of our water putting out the tail. By that point, Jebediah and Biggs had come over. Jeb and I got the cockpit open. I can’t believe someone could go through a crash like that and come out unharmed.”

Obi-Wan could. He’d seen Anakin do it enough times, using the force in a way that only Anakin could.

A spark of hope burned through his chest.

Could another Jedi have survived the Order? Was this why the force was calling him here?

He couldn’t remember of a Jedi named Dara, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t one. Before the Clone Wars, there were over 10,000 spread throughout the galaxy. Their numbers dwindled throughout the war, but they had still been a sizable group. If he and Master Yoda survived, it wasn’t impossible for another to have made it out as well.

“She’s a pretty girl,” Owen was saying, interrupting Obi-Wan’s thoughts, “It’s a shame that her eyes are such a strange yellow color.”

The spark was extinguished like a candle in a wind storm.

“I- I’m sorry, Owen, but I have to go.”

Obi-Wan could hear him call out, asking what was wrong. He couldn’t tell him, couldn’t cause any form of panic that might alert the Lars’ guest. He had to find a different way to fix this, one that didn’t involve him storming the farm with his lightsaber ready to strike. He silently thanked his old master, and every part of the force that had reached out to warn him. The part that wanted to help him keep Luke safe from the Empire.

Dara Ardi was a Sith Lord.


	3. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You must be Dara Ardi. How unfortunate that we meet under these circumstances.”
> 
> “Yes, quite unfortunate. It’ll be a shame if I have to kill you.” The twin black lines trailing down her face shifted with her smile.
> 
> “It’ll be a shame if I have to die,” Obi-Wan shifted his lightsaber in his grip, “I’m just starting to like it here.”

Dara awoke to a new face, luckily at a much more respectable distance than Luke had been. A kind looking woman, probably a few years younger than her. Her blond hair was tied back in a low bun, with the beginnings of crow’s feet framing her eyes.

“Hello, Dara, I didn’t mean to wake you,” She placed a bundle on a chair next to the bed, “I’m Beru, Owen’s wife. How are you feeling?”

Dara didn’t answer.

Beru moved to the bed, reaching for Dara’s face. A warm, calloused hand was placed on her forehead. Beru hummed as she pulled away.

“You don’t seem to be running a fever, so that’s good. Do you feel dizzy at all?”

Dara shook her head, immediately regretting it. She groaned in pain, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. White stars danced across her eyelids, mocking her.

“Well, I don’t think you have a concussion, but I would be very surprised if you weren’t in any pain. That was quite a crash, you know.”

Oh, she knew. She just didn’t know how she came out unscathed.

“I’m fine, it’s just a headache,” She lowered her hands, blinking the spots out of her vision. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed herself to her feet.

“Ahh, she speaks! Good, I was worried for a moment that my husband had lied to me,” Beru gestured to the bundle she had placed onto the chair, “Here, I brought you some clothes. You won’t last a minute in the desert dressed like that.”

Dara glanced down, almost offended. Yet, she knew Beru was right. Ullura was in its winter cycle, so she was covered in black, heavy fabrics. She was certain that her Cerberi fur hood was matted with sweat. She was surprised she hadn’t already died of heat stroke.

“Thank you.” She reached down to grab from the pile, all varied shades of brown linen and cotton. She kept her Cattalian-hide boots, and her crystal earrings. Everything else she was determined to sell at the nearest market. If she couldn’t sell them, then she’d burn them and scatter the ashes.

Wait.

_Where are my lightsabers?_

Panic flooded her system. How could she have gone this long without noticing that her lightsabers weren’t with her? How could she be so thoughtless, so _stupid?_

_Maybe they’re hiding them,_ a dark voice hissed in her ear, _maybe they stole them and are planning to sell them to the highest bidder. Surely two lightsabers would fetch a hefty price out in this wasteland._

Hatred and fury curled around her neck like fire. These people were only pretending to help her, weren’t they? They were going to sell her lightsabers. They probably planned to sell her right along with them.

_Not again. Never again._

Dara raised her hand to Beru’s back, moving to close her fist. The woman was talking, but the words wouldn’t reach her. Rage roared in her ears like waves crashing into the mines, soaking her to the bone.

Luke toddled into the room, her lightsabers in hand.

“Luke!” Beru exclaimed, “Why do you have Dara’s things?! Give them back to her at once!”

“Gonna bring ‘em back!” Luke pouted, handing them to a frozen Dara, “I jus’ wanna look at ‘em!”

A new feeling washed over Dara: pure, unadulterated shame.

_I said I was never using those powers again, yet at the first opportunity, I’m ready to strangle an innocent woman._ Self-hatred mingled with the shame, burning in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh, good, those clothes fit you just fine,” Beru took her discarded clothes from her arms, and gestured to the door, “Luke, why don’t you take Dara on a tour of the farm? It’ll be good for her to stretch her legs a bit.”

A grin spread across his face, and he grabbed Dara’s hand.

“Okay, Aunt Beru!” He tugged her across the room, with more strength than a child should possess, “I’mma show you all the bes’ hiding spots!”

Dara looked back at Beru, a half-pleading expression on her face.

The woman only waved.

“Look, look, Dara! This is my room!” Luke dragged her across the hall, into a room the same size as the one they just left, but less crowded.

Kind of.

There were toys everywhere, all in various states of being disassembled. Gears and springs jutted out of a battle droid’s back, mixed in with wires from a sandcruiser. A starfighter ship was the only toy in one piece, up on the small bed, next to a one-eyed creature.

“Um… Wow, Luke, this is… wow.” She didn’t know what to say. Did this kid like tinkering and fixing things, or did he just want to destroy everything he could get his hands on?

Luke beamed up at her.

“Come on!”

As he dragged her through the rest of the house, a distant pull appeared in the back of her mind.

_It’s coming,_ they whispered, _be ready._

It grew more insistent, until it felt like the force was going to physically pull her in whatever direction it chose.

_Outside. It’s outside._

“Luke, where’s your uncle?”

…

Obi-Wan decided to bide his time, to come up with a strategy. He kept his distance the following day, just reaching out to check if Luke was unharmed. However, the other presence in the house made it difficult to concentrate. When he would direct his thoughts to the Lars’ home, the force would pull him away from Luke, and onto the Sith Lord currently in their residence. It was infuriating.

So far, Luke was unharmed, and he couldn’t detect any malicious intent from Dara Ardi. That wasn’t as comforting as he hoped.

When he had returned home, he immediately called on Qui-Gon. His master had looked amused at the turn of events, his blue glow shimmering in the daylight.

“It’s a good thing you always believed in not rushing into things, Obi-Wan,” He had chuckled, “Though I do remember more than one account of you running straight into danger.”

“Only because you were ahead of me, master.”

Qui-Gon’s laughter had echoed through the room.

He had never gotten a true answer from his former master, just conspiratorial laughter, as if Obi-Wan was struggling to understand some cosmic inside joke.

He had felt like that his entire life.

So, he waited. He went about his business, with half of his concentration focused on a moisture farm in the distance. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or frustrated that nothing had happened yet. No change, no suspicion-raising acts.

He was in the middle of his daily Raiders fight when the change happened. He felt her presence, like always, but then it was headed towards him, closer every second.

He had to be ready, since she seemed to be bringing the fight to him.

_Get rid of me first, then take the boy. How logical, if a bit predictable._

He stopped toying with the Raiders, stopped going easy on them. He had enjoyed this part of his routine, holding back just enough that they weren’t discouraged from approaching him again. He needed the exercise, after all. But now, a real threat was coming, one that he couldn’t fight off surrounded by 5 Raiders.

The Raiders were dead before they hit the ground.

He moved their bodies, as far as he could before she arrived.

He felt her presence, calling out to him. It was echoing through the canyon, surrounding him, to the point where he couldn’t determine her actual location. It was strange, however, how little of the dark side he felt.

In Dooku, it was a whisper. Cold, like the air was freezing in his lungs. The presence of a man who was not only confident in his abilities, but also in his knowledge of his opponent. That man knew he would win, until he didn’t. Dooku knew both sides of the force, knew how to be a vessel for its will, but also how to make it bend to his own.

In Maul, it was a screaming match. Maul would grapple for power, for dominance, and the force would reach and rip at his sanity. When they first fought, it wasn’t like that. He became desperate for power in the end. Maul had to win, had to decimate his enemy. To Maul, the force had to be dominated, controlled in a way that made it push back against him. To take as equal as it gave.

In Dara, it was a conversation. A door closed, but not locked. Free for her to come and go as she pleased, always to be welcomed with open arms when she returned.

Obi-Wan had never sensed anything like it.

In Anakin…

“Hello there.”

Obi-Wan blinked, snapping his head up to voice. He had to shield his eyes from the blinding light of the twin suns. Even then, he could only see a silhouette of the figure on top of the cliffs, but he’d recognize the presence blind.

“General Kenobi.”

Dara leaped from the cliff, igniting her lightsabers mid-air. He had expected the red blade in her left hand, but the white beam in her right hand caught him off guard. She landed in a crouch in front of him; her blades extended behind her. _A reverse grip,_ he noticed, _like Ahsoka._ His heart clenched in his chest.

“You must be Dara Ardi. How unfortunate that we meet under these circumstances.”

“Yes, quite unfortunate. It’ll be a shame if I have to kill you.” The twin black lines trailing down her face shifted with her smile.

“It’ll be a shame if I have to die,” Obi-Wan shifted his lightsaber in his grip, “I’m just starting to like it here.”

Dara gave him a once over, bright yellow eyes narrowing. She cocked her head to the side. “You know, I heard you were pretty diplomatic for a Jedi. This doesn’t seem like you’re very open to discussion.”

“On the contrary, I’d very much like to ask you how you found this planet, and just what you’re doing on it.”

A smile curved her lips again, “And that’s still not a discussion. Sounds to me like more of an interrogation.”

“Well, you did say I was ‘diplomatic for a Jedi’. The key word there is _Jedi_.”

Dara straightened out of her crouch. Her lightsabers flickered behind her, the red and white clashing and sparking against each other. Then, she shut them off entirely. She tucked them into her belt, raising her hands by her face. Obi-Wan stared at her, his guard still on high alert.

“I just want to talk, Kenobi. Keep your lightsaber out, if it makes you feel better, but I’m truly not here to fight you.”

All he could do was nod. She approached him, her hands still up. The seconds to cross the canyon floor felt like an eternity, his mind slowing down every move she made to prepare him for a strike. She finally stood before him, close enough for him to see the different shades of blue in the diamonds decorating her forehead.

She only came to his chin.

He couldn’t help it. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Aren’t you a little short to be a Sith Lord?”

…

Dara would’ve flipped him over her shoulder if she wasn’t trying to make peace. Damned diplomacy.

“Ha. Now, do I need to keep my hands up, or do you want to avoid getting hit in the face? I’ve been told I talk with my hands.” She waved, for emphasis.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at her, a smile still playing at his lips. “Keep them up. I could use a good reflex test.”

Dara looked him straight in the eye as she dropped her hands to her hips, watched him tense as she pulled her lightsabers from her belt. She reached out to hand them over.

“Here, take them. If it’s the only way that you’ll listen to me, then I want you to hold onto them.”

He looked skeptical, reaching out hesitatingly, as if he thought she’d suddenly change her mind and chop off his hand. She couldn’t blame him, really.

He finally took them from her, placing them, and his own weapon in his robe.

“Satisfied?” She moved to sit on a rock, her back against the canyon wall. She raised an eyebrow at the discarded bodies of Tusken Raiders a few feet away. “Someone’s had a busy day. What, is this your fighting pit for minor to moderate inconveniences?”

“I’d dare say you’re a bit more than moderately inconveniencing, Dara Ardi.”

“That warms my heart, Kenobi. Truly, you have no idea.”

Obi-Wan sat across from her, placing a foot across the opposite thigh.

“I’ll ask again, why are you _here_?”

In that moment, Dara remembered a story she had heard about General Obi-Wan Kenobi. Even in the far reaches of space, on the edge of the Unknown Regions, stories about the Clone Wars reached her ears. Not many, but the ones that made it there were fantastical and half-unbelievable and all centered around the man across from her. He was part of a matching set, along with Anakin Skywalker. Skywalker had the reputation for heated battles, power radiating off him in waves. Obi-Wan, however, was just as good a swordsman, but he was calculating. He saw everything at once. He didn’t just see the battle; he saw the war.

He would see right through a lie, before it even left her mouth.

“First, tell me this: why do you care so much? The planet’s big enough for the both of us, isn’t it?”

“Why did you seek out the Lars family?”

“Seek them _out_? I crashed, in case you forgot. The only thing I was _seeking_ was a clear enough space to land,” Dara shook her head, “Is that what this is about? Is that why you came to the farm the other day?”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, “Did Owen tell you I came? Who I am?”

Dara stood. “He didn’t have to. Your presence isn’t exactly _subtle._ It was like a siren in my head!” She hadn’t noticed the voices’ disappearance since she entered the canyon.

“Are you here for Luke?”

Out of all the questions he had asked her, that was the strangest. What would she want with a 3-year-old with possible kleptomania? He’d make a good pick-pocket if he wasn’t so upfront about taking things.

“Why the kriff would I be here for little Luke Lars? I’m not out here shopping for apprentices, you know.”

Obi-Wan’s entire demeanor changed. Cool indifference turned to confusion, sending him reeling away from her.

“Wait, you don’t know who Luke is?”

“I know who you’re talking about, Kenobi. Little kid, blond, smile bright enough to power a city?” Dara shrugged, turning away, “I mean, he’s a cute kid, but I don’t want an apprentice. In fact, I hope I never have one.” Images of her master flashed through her mind, unbidden, tinged with the same red as the lightsaber in Obi-Wan’s robe.

“So, if you’re not here for Luke…”

“Listen, in the frankest of terms, I am an enemy of the Empire,” she glared at the ground, fury bubbling up in her throat. “I didn’t agree with what they were doing throughout the galaxy, and I made the ‘mistake’ of telling them so. They invaded my planet, forcing me into exile. That’s why I came here, not for some future-moisture farmer.”

Obi-Wan stared at her, searching for something she couldn’t name. Whether he found it or not, she wasn’t sure. He sighed, whispering what sounded like _“force, give me strength.”_

He settled a strong look at her, not a glare, but firm in a way that told her that what he said next was not up for debate.

“If you are completely set on staying on Tatooine, Dara Ardi, then I have two conditions.” His blue eyes were piercing in the sliver of light pouring into the canyon. They reminded her of the oceans of Ullura, powerful and deep. She nodded her head, clearing her throat.

“And what are your conditions?”

He stood, walking towards her. He stopped several feet away, close enough to join her in the shadow of the canyon, but far enough that she wouldn’t be able to take back her lightsabers without giving him amble time to react.

“One, you will leave the Lars’ moisture farm immediately, and you will not contact them again. Two, you will not bring Imperial attention to this planet, or even this system.”

He looked tired then, as if he had done this one too many times before.

“If you violate either of these conditions, I will be forced to hunt you down and take care of you as the Jedi Code demands of me.”

She couldn’t help but ask, “Why not kill me now?”

If he looked tired before, he looked absolutely exhausted now.

“I spent years of my life running from conflict to conflict,” he sighed, “Forgive me if I’d like to try actual diplomacy for once. But, make no mistake, if you hurt a single hair on that boy’s head-”

“How _dare_ you,” she said, her voice low with cold anger. “How dare you insinuate that I would ever hurt a child.”

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Rey Kenobi AU!! I've been planning this long before Rise of Skywalker ever came out, so we're disregarding all that came with the film, okay? Okay.


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